


For your protection

by maurascalla



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-05 00:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maurascalla/pseuds/maurascalla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is surprised when a boy he hardly knows volunteers to take his place in the 64th Hunger Games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For your protection

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what this is.

The woods are dangerous, they said. The fence has been erected for your protection. 

It wasn’t doing much protecting. The fence shielding District 12 from the surrounding wildlife was once full of electricity so strong it would kill a fully grown man almost instantly. Now it just sat there, limp and useless. It didn’t carry electricity anymore than fish fly. The only purpose it served was to remind citizens that they would be punished it they went through it. 

Dean, ignoring the threat of punishment if caught, ended up on the other side of the fence more days than not. The woods surrounding District 12 had something that the broken and wilting District did not. It had food, if you were smart enough to catch it. 

And he was. 

Taught by his father, Dean was District 12’s most valuable hunter. Three or four times a week he would slip past the guards and catch a few squirrels or a rabbit. With this bounty, he kept his family feed. He would sometimes trade the meat for other things he needed, like bread or shoes. Dean was a provider. His family needed him. 

Dean’s father, once a strong man, did nothing but work in the mines and sleep anymore. He was a shell of the man he was before Dean’s mother passed. He curled up into himself, and never really came out. He would get back form mines covered in soot and dirt and exhaustion, eat his dinner, and sleep until he had to do it all over again. Anything they had they had because Dean had gotten it for them. He didn’t want his brother to want for anything. 

Sam, Dean’s brother, was thirteen years old. He still had school, but when he got out, Dean would drag him into the woods with him to teach him how to hunt. Sam didn’t like it, but Dean made him go anyway. Soon, Dean wouldn’t have the time to go hunting as he had before. His eighteenth birthday was fast approaching, and when it came he would be joining his father in the mines. He would need Sam’s help. 

“Could you walk any freaking louder?” Dean muttered, trying to sneak through the underbrush. They were over a mile from the fence, not as far as they would go out typically, and Sam was scaring off all of the wildlife. 

“Sorry,” Sam said. He was awkward, still trying to get used to his newly elongated limbs. He didn’t know were to put his feet. Dean sighed. He remembered growing up and growing out, but his experience wasn’t quite Sam’s. The boy had jumped up three inches in the last few months. They were nose to nose now. 

Dean turned to look at his brother. He was fidgeting, pulling on his too-long hair and biting his lower lip. “’sokay, Sammy.” He said, swallowing a lump in his throat. 

“It’s Reaping Day, Dean.” Sam’s voice was rough. 

“I know.” The bow Dean had been carrying feels heavy in his hands. “It’s going to be okay.” 

“You can’t know that-”

“I know it, okay? I just do.” Dean spun on his heels and began walking back to he fence empty handed. They weren’t going to get anything today anyway. Sam was making too much noise, and Dean’s focus was shot. “Let’s get back.”

Sam fell into step behind him, quiet. 

**

The woman on the stage looked alien against the backdrop of District 12. She had on ridiculously impractical shoes, and her hair was so bright blue it hurt to look directly at it. 

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the 64th annul Hunger Games!” She sang, her voice shrill with the Capital accent. Dean was very careful not to roll his eyes. 

The boy next to him, a kid he’d gone to school with, was shaking. It was his last Reaping, Dean knew. Soon he would be watching with the other towns people, maybe with a dusting of flour on his clothes. The boy, Castiel, was the bakers son. He would enter into the trade himself when he turned eighteen, just as Dean would join his father in the mines. 

Dean would rather bake. 

He had a hard time trying to feel something like camaraderie for this boy who would have everything a citizen of District 12 could hope for, so long as he could escape this Reaping. 

“Let’s start with the girls! Ladies first after all!” The Capital woman said, walking over to a glass bowl filled with the names of every girl in District 12. Dean stared at the girls, who had been herded off to one side of the arena in front of the stage, while the boys had been sent to the other. His eyes searched out Cassie, his girlfriend. She stood with her shoulders set and her back straight. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

He prayed.

The Capital woman took her sweet time picking out a name. Her smile was sunny. 

“Joanna Harvelle!” She called out, her arms wide and inviting. Dean’s protest caught in his throat, and his hands tightened into fists. Little Jo Harvelle had been like a sister to him. Her father and his had been good friends before Bill Harvelle died in the same fire that had killed Dean’s mother. Jo’s mother had helped Dean take care of Sam, teaching him how to get Sam to eat when he refused, or smile when he hadn’t for days. He could hear her crying from the crowd. Jo was twelve years old. 

She walked up to the stage alone, looking so small. 

“And from the boys,” the Capital woman said, turning to the bowl of boy’s names. Dean searched the crowd of younger boys for his brother. Sam caught his eye, his jaw clenched. 

“Dean Winchester!” 

It took a second before the woman’s slinky voice held any real meaning. He blinked. 

“Don’t be shy, boy! Get on up here!” She called, like he wanted to get up on that stage. Like he wanted to leave his brother alone in the world. 

Something shifted inside of Dean, and he started walking towards the stage. He felt like he was in trance. Who would take care of Sam? He thought. Maybe if I can talk to Bobby before they take me away. Maybe if I can get him to take Sam in. Off to the side he could heard Sam crying and calling his name. 

“It’s going to be okay, Sam.” He said firmly, but he didn’t think Sam could hear him over the sound of his own sobbing. 

“I volunteer!”

Dean blinked. What?

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Asked the Capital woman. Dean turned to find the baker’s son, Castiel, standing between the rows of girls and boys, with his head held high. 

“I volunteer.” 

**

Dean and Sam watch Castiel’s interview with Uriel Angel together, their eyes glued to the TV. He was last, after Jo, who had been so sweet and feisty. She’d been billed as this year’s favorite, though most people were putting money on Jake, the boy from 2. 

Castiel wasn’t shy, but he wasn’t an easy boy to like. He was awkward and seemed to misunderstand Uriae’s attempts at humor. In short, the interview was not going well. 

“So, Castiel, tell us, why did you volunteer for that other boy in you home District? That’s rather unorthodox behavior in 12, if I recall.” Uriel flashed his too bright teeth. 

Dean leaned forward in his seat, hands steeped under his chin. He was holding his breath. He had tried to get to Castiel that day, at the Reaping, but they wouldn’t let him in. He could not thank him enough. Dean hoped Castiel could see the gratitude in his eyes when they passed each other when he was being ushered onto the stage.

“He deserved it.”

“Because-?”

“Yes.”

“Would you care to elaborate?” Uriel asked, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.

Dean avoided Sam’s curious gaze. “I thought you said you didn’t even know that guy,” he accused. 

“I don’t know him. We’ve spoken twice, maybe.” Dean said, watching Castiel’s careful head tilt. 

“No, I do not.” Castiel said sternly, ending that line of questioning. Dean frowned. He wanted to know. He was burning to know why. He didn’t think he ever would now. Castiel was smart, but he wasn’t strong. The chances of him making it out of the games were pitifully small. In all likelihood, Dean would never know why his life had been spared. 

**

The District was buzzing with anticipation. Today the Gamemakers were going to release the ratings on the Tributes. Dean waited with Bobby and Ellen for the news. They sat in Bobby’s tiny house, eyes glued to the tv. Sam sat on the floor to Dean’s right. 

When the announcer finally made it to 12, Ellen gripped Bobby’s arm. 

“Joanna Harvelle, the girl from 12:” Urial paused for dramatic effect, “9.” 

Ellen let out a sigh of relief followed by a sob. Dean grinned widely. Jo was good with knives. She could hit a deer with a bread knife from forty feet. Bobby had trained her well. 

“And finally, from 12, Castiel Milton: 6.” Dean blinked. Sam looked up at him and gave him a sad smile. Suddenly, the air was stifling. 

Dean stood from Bobby’s flimsy chair and stalked out of the house. 

**

Dean watched religiously. He watched the Games every moment he wasn’t training in the mines. He watched as the boy from 2, Jake, was stabbed by a girl from 4. That same girl got an axe to the back from the girl from 9. Only a week into the Games and there were only seven Tributes left. 

Castiel and Jo among them, somehow. Thankfully. They had formed a team. Dean wasn’t sure how it would work, in the end. But for now, it was wonderful. They were alive. 

They worked like this: Jo killed them squirrels and fish for eating, and Castiel kept watch. The boy needed little sleep. He was very attentive. Between them, they had avoided five attacks, and launched three of their own. Slowly, they were gaining more and more support in the Capital. 

“They’re doing really, really well.” Cassie said one night sitting next to Dean in his house. He’d spent all day at the mines, and he was eager to watch Jo and Castiel until he fell asleep on in his chair. Cassie coming over was a pleasant surprise. 

“I know,” said Sam from the kitchen table. He was doing his homework with half his concentration on the tv. Dean liked that Sam did his homework, liked that he tried so hard. He might have a chance to make it out of the mines. If he kissed the right asses and made the grades, he could make it out. Dean couldn’t have been prouder. “Jo has a really good chance. She was smart to team up with Castiel.” 

The room went quiet and heavy, the only noise the laughter coming from the Careers on the tv. 

“Can you just-” Dean started, unsure of what he’d wanted to say. Cassie put a hand to his shoulder. The contact felt nice. Comforting, though he wasn’t sure why he needed it. 

The camera panned over the trees, and switched it’s subjects from the Careers, who had taken up residence at the edge of the river, to Castiel and Jo, walking quietly through the woods. 

They were dirty and tired, but alert. Jo walked with a knife at her side. She brushed a blonde hair out of her face. 

“Why are you even here?” She asked, rounding on Castiel. His eye widened, looking affronted. 

“Because I can’t do thins without you, and you need me.” He said simply. 

“No,” Jo said. Dean had seen that look on her face more times than he could count. She meant business, and she wasn’t going to stop until she got an answer. Dean almost felt sorry for Castiel. “I mean, why are you in the Games at all!”

Castiel frowned. “I felt it was necessary.”

“Dean could have handled this.” Jo said defensively. “He’s stronger than you. Better in the woods.”

“I know that.” 

“Why are you here?” Her hands were on her hips, the knife jutting out to the side precariously. She fixed him with a look that could curdle milk. Dean wondered if now was really the time for this. They were less than three miles from the Careers, if the little map in the corner of the screen was honest, and they really should be moving further East. 

Castiel sighed, shuffling his feet. “I couldn’t stand to see him die in this arena.” 

Dean felt Cassie and Sam staring at him, shocked. He was shocked too. He’d never imagined- never thought-

Jo nodded, like that made perfect sense, and they continued East. Dean exhaled a shaky breath. 

“Dean,” Cassie squeezed his shoulder. Her voice was carefully masked and unemotional. Dean wasn’t sure what to make of it. Of anything, really. 

“I didn’t know.” He said hollowly. “No idea.” 

“He never said anything?” She wondered, blinking her beautiful eyes. 

“No, Cassie! Damn it!” Dean snapped. He stood from his chair and stalked into the room he shared with Sam. As he lay in bed he heard Cassie say her goodbyes, and walk out the door. 

He didn’t know how to feel. How are you supposed to feel when a boy you barely know gave up his life for yours because he couldn’t stand a world without you? Dean didn’t think anyone had any advice for something like this. He felt terrible. 

When Sam came in for bed, Dean ignored his attempts at conversation. He feel asleep, confused and angry. 

**

Five days later, Jo was killed by the boy from 6. Castiel got him through the heart less than thirty seconds later. 

Castiel stared at the bodies around him and sunk to his knees. He crawled over to Jo and bent his head over her body. He murmured a few words, a prayer or a song, before brushing her hair from her face. He cried. 

Dean was crying too, his hands tightly clenched into fists. Sam sat beside him, rocking back and forth. 

After a moment of silence, Castiel stood from Jo’s body. He went through her pockets, grabbing her knives. He turned on the boy from 6, Adam, and rummaged through his gear. He strapped everything he found, food, weapons and water, to his body before heading West. Toward the Careers. 

Castiel paused, turned back, and gave Jo’s body a look of absolute sadness. “I’m sorry,” he said. Dean swallowed a lump in his throat. 

**

Three hours later, Castiel was standing in the river, washing Career blood from his hands. 

It had been a bloodbath. A fearsome display of power. Castiel had clearly been hiding his true potential from everyone. It was a sight to behold. He was the last Tribute standing. Castiel had stormed into the camp and began throwing knives and knocking people out with a few well placed kicks. No one saw it coming. 

Dean was speechless. The commentators, Uriel and Zachariah, were also having trouble forming a tangible response. It was a Game unlike anyone had ever seen, or would likely see again. 

**

Did you see it? People would ask each other. Did you see what he did?

No one asked Dean. Cassie wouldn’t receive him when he swung by her house. Ellen hadn’t left her bed in days, and hollered at him when he went to see how she was. Sam was being hounded at school. Did you know him? What was he like before? Except, Sam hadn’t known Castiel. Dean hadn’t either. 

“What came over you?” Uriel had asked at Castiel’s exit interview. He sat up straight and refused to look at anyone. 

“Jo was the kindest girl, and she did not deserve to die.” He said simply. “I was making sure she made it to the end. She would have won your Games.” 

Uriel, unsure of what to say to that, smiled awkwardly. “Castiel Novak, winner of the 64th annual Hunger Games, everyone!”

There was a scattered applause. Dean had cringed. What Castiel was saying smacked uncomfortably of rebellion. It made Dean nervous. Sam had smiled. 

“It’s good that someone is calling them out on how inhuman this is. All of it.” Sam had said, loudly. Dean shushed him. 

“He’ll be lucky if they let him come home before they kill him.” Dean said, giving his brother a stern look. “You should be careful what you say.” 

“He’s so brave, Dean. He shouldn’t be punished for that.” Sam growled. 

“I agree, but that isn’t how the world works, Sammy.” 

“It should though. It should work that way.” 

Dean looked at his brother, his eyes were full of fire. “Just be careful.”

“You too.” Sam said, pointedly looking at the photo of Castiel plastered on the tv screen. Dean furled his brows. “Just be nice.”

**

It was days after Castiel came home before Dean got to see him. 

“Dean Winchester,” Dean opened his front door after a hard day of mining and hunting to Castiel standing on his front porch. “Hello.”

“Hey,” 

“I would like to apologize for embarrassing you on television.” Castiel said, his hands fidgeting. 

“I-” Dean started, stopped, and shook his head. “How can you- come inside, please.”

He stepped to the side, allowing the other boy into the house. 

“You were- were you really going to- for Jo?” Dean asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Castiel looked harder around the eyes than he did before he left. 

“Of course.” He replied, raising an eyebrow. “Joanna had a good heart. It should have been rewarded.” 

“Is that why- why you volunteered for me?”

“No. I did that because I have loved you for many years. Longer than I can remember.” Castiel said honestly. Dean nodded, having figured that out long ago. He moved forward.

Castiel was intense and possibly insane, but Dean wanted to know more about him. He needed to know more. He touched Castiel’s shoulder lightly. It was weird. He felt strange under Dean’s hand, solid and so unlike a girl. 

This boy had given up everything for Dean. He’d almost died for Dean. He would have died for a girl he hadn’t known. Brave and true and Dean owed him so much. He stepped closer. 

“Why?”

“You provide for your brother, when you don’t have to. Many wouldn’t have done that. You work harder for the things you have than those around you, yet you are not bitter towards your family. You love them. And I know, were it Samuel’s name drawn from that bowl, you would’ve done as I did.” Castiel said quietly, taking a step himself. 

They met in the middle and Dean brought his hand up to Castiel’s face. His skin was soft and warm. 

**

It was months before Ellen could muster the strength to leave her house. Dean smiled at her, covered in dirt and grime from the mines, when he saw her waiting for him at his front door. 

“Ellen!” 

She gave him a small smile, and held her arms out for a hug. They embraced, and Ellen pulled away covered in muck. 

“What’re you doing here?”

“I just wanted to say hello. See how my favorite boys are doing.” She said. 

“We’re doing really well. Sam’s getting top marks in everything.” Dean brushed some dirt off her shoulder, grinning. His face dropped into something a little more serious. “How are you?”

Ellen smile faded. “I don’t- life goes on, Dean. I can’t just shut myself away. You know as well as I do that it wont make what happened disappear. It wont make Jo come back.” 

Dean hugged Ellen close to him again. She was once his rock, and now he’ll return the favor. 

“So, where’s District 12’s-first-Champion-in-twenty-years? I haven’t seen him yet.” Ellen asked when they parted. Dean couldn’t help the grin that blossomed across his face. 

“He’s doing an interview with some Capital people right now, but he said he’d swing by later.” He said, and Ellen shot him a look, her eyes glittering. She winked. He flushed. 

“Aren’t you going to invite me in for a drink, boy?” Ellen asked, smiling brightly. Dean opened the door, and waved her in.

**


End file.
